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Thirty-nine steps

I’m not at all bothered about age, or numbers, or years. I don’t mind careering towards forty like a deranged lunatic. It is not as if there’s anything new in that.

I career, at many miles per hour, around my life, sometimes bumping into the pauses.

When I do, I breathe deep, suck it all down and off I go again.

I’ve got a year left of my thirties. A year of not taking paid work unless I’m getting paid to write. A year of only doing writing work. And because I don’t need any other challenges, I’m going to commit to posting a daily poem on my tumblr (created for the purpose).